


Costume Contests

by vanete_druse



Category: Common Law
Genre: Costumes, Crossdressing, Fluff, Halloween, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 04:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5115869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanete_druse/pseuds/vanete_druse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Travis and Wes wore couple's costumes as friends, and one time they did after they got together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Costume Contests

**Author's Note:**

  * For [watanuki_sama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/watanuki_sama/gifts).



> Written as a fill for a prompt by benadrylthegoodstuff. Pure sappy fluff. Happy Halloween everybody! :)

**5**

It’s honestly not so much that Wes dislikes Halloween, but more so that after a certain age, the magic has seemed to seep from it. _“You have to act your age, Wesley. You’re practically an adult!”_ was the ultimate in killing all fun from previous years, a reminder to Wes of the importance of a pristine and proper presentation – one that didn’t include ridiculous costumes and enough candy to rot out every last inch of his teeth. October 31 st became yet another fall day, full of assignments due and exams to take, fading entirely to the background of Wes’s perspective.

This is before Travis enters his world, and with him comes the love of fall, of all things strange and creepy and scary and horrific, of costume parties and apple dunking and spiked cider. There is a part of Wes that wants to take it back and bury himself in a pile of paperwork as if they’ve never met.

There is another part of Wes, one that he cannot quite bring himself to admit, that lives for Travis’s enthusiasm, a reminder of what he’s left behind in his haste to appear mature.

“Vampire and werewolf is always a classic,” Travis says out of the blue, chair tilted slightly backwards, throwing an orange stress ball straight up into the air as he ignores the stack of files on his desk. When Wes looks up just in time to see it fall back into Travis’s hand effortlessly, he can just about make out the black design of a jack-o-lantern’s face painted on the side. “Or, oh, I know! M&Ms! Mitchell and Marks! That is _hilarious_ and you know it.”

Wes doesn’t laugh even as Travis grins in his face, simply grips the pen tighter and clicks it exactly four times. “It is _ridiculous_ , that’s what it is.”

“So what? That’s what Halloween is about. And I bet it would win us the costume contest. Which I can’t lose, by the way, this is my reputation that we’re talking about right now.”

Rolling his eyes, Wes turns to his computer, hoping that it puts an end to this train of thought entirely. But this is _Travis_ , and nothing is so easy or so simple, which is precisely how he finds himself in a Halloween store the following Saturday, the scent of cheap plastic and fabrics invading his senses.

Holding up two of the plastic costume bags, Travis smiles at him in that soft and beguiling way that Wes can’t help but always say yes to, no matter how opposed to an idea he is. “It would be _funny_ …”

Wes just grabs one of the bags with as much force as he can muster, and stomps away towards a dressing room.

*

The not so official precinct wide Halloween party has gained in popularity and prestige over the years that Wes had joined the police force, going from a small affair of autumn dedicated officers bringing in a few orange and black streamers and an array of pumpkin and apple flavored treats, to an entirely costumed extravaganza, with everyone pitching in a few store bought decorations that didn’t quite fit on the lawn and enough food to feed the precinct in the neighboring district as well.

Before, Wes had never truly participated beyond throwing a ten dollar bill in the community pot for pizza. “I’m an overworked robbery homicide detective,” was his go to answer whenever someone questioned him about costumes, until finally people had stopped and left him at his desk to work in peace.

But of course all good things must come to an end. “I feel _stupid_ ,” Wes hisses at Travis, tugging on the edge of his costume.

“You look _great_!” Travis exclaims in response, linking their arms and dragging Wes inside the party. If there had been any music playing, Wes swears it would’ve stopped with a record scratch, as all their coworkers stop what they’re doing and turn to look at them in shock.

Travis continues to drag Wes further into the crowds, their matching candy costumes bumping against one another. “You got dressed up, Wes!”

“I was coerced. Why do you think we’re so successful with interrogations?”

“Aw, babe! I didn’t even know you appreciated my skills like that. See, I told you the costumes would be good for us.”

Travis is grinning at him over a cup of punch in his free hand, their arms still linked. Wes figures the humiliation has a few perks.

**4**

The following year, Travis says in the midst of a bloody crime scene during July, “Since we won best costume last year, we really have to step it up to keep the title. I was thinking maybe some classic horror movie stuff. I could be Jason or Freddy, and you could be my victim.”

“Travis, don’t you think there’s something more important to be discussing? Like any potential clues so we can catch the murderer?”

Kneeling beside a victim, the other man continues on as if Wes hasn’t even spoken. “You know, I was still thinking about vampire and werewolf, especially since they have that whole rivalry going on. It’d be fitting, right? But I think it’s too obvious. Plus, this way we get to spatter each other in a ton of blood, how fun is that going to be?”

“I don’t know, maybe you should ask our victim how much fun he’s having,” Wes responds drily, flipping open his notebook and clicking his pen, but only twice before he begins to write.

*

“We should totally gash your face up, and just have blood pouring from it. And your eyes too! Do you think you’d be okay wearing some darker contacts, like I gouged your eyes out?”

Wes has a mouth full of veggie burger, too much food to adequately respond as Travis is rambling on. Setting down his food and swallowing, he says wearily, “Travis, it’s September fifth.”

“That’s not a ‘no’, so…”

Sighing, Wes just picks at his French fries and allows Travis to continue his early planning.

*

As it turns out, Travis has a foster sister studying cosmetology and special effects makeup, who obviously needs models for her portfolio, and is more than willing to spend an hour on Halloween to attack Wes’s face. Petite, blonde, and with a cherubic face, there’s absolutely no way that Wes can say no, even as she’s gluing latex to his face.

All Travis needs is a mask, of course. It’s resting on the top of his head as he snags a seat right across from Wes, watching every layer of latex go on with excited intent. “You’re the best, Brittany! It’s gonna look _so_ good!”

“Stop talking. You’re making him smile and it’s messing up my gash,” Brittany scolds, more playful than reproachful.

“I’m not! I am _not_.”

“Dude, I’m literally touching your face. You can’t hide anything from me.”

Travis laughs so hard his mask falls off his head, bouncing hollowly off the hardwood floor.

*

Just in the time between Travis’s apartment and the precinct, Wes has to summon all of his willpower not to scratch off the increasingly itchy make-up, which makes him glad he had enough sense to insist against the colored contacts; sticky latex is more than enough of an annoyance. But at least the costume itself is comfortable, just a simple red varsity jacket and a pair of jeans, both of which have been splattered with extra blood.

It makes it easier to let himself drip on them then, even if he wished he didn’t really have to sacrifice a pair of gardening jeans for Travis’s cause. “You’re cleaning my car after this, just so you know.”

Travis rolls his eyes and pulls his mask down over his face, before grabbing Wes’s arm and guiding him towards the party room. “Let’s do this!”

For a second, the first glances towards Wes are full of worry, until Travis quickly steps up behind him and the understanding falls into place. And there’s something in those first few moments of confusion that he enjoys, and he knows from the sound of Travis chuckling beside him that it’s a shared feeling.

“It’s adorable how you guys have started playing off each other like that,” Kate says around a mouthful of pumpkin roll. “We were wondering how long that would take.”

“Well, you know how Wes is. He takes some persuading. But no one can deny Halloween forever!” Travis smirks, rubbing their elbows together.

The way that Kate raises her eyebrows and replies, “ _Right_ ,” makes Wes wonder if she’s really only talking about the costumes.

**3**

It’s September twenty-eighth and Wes considers himself extremely lucky that Travis has somehow showcased a massive amount of restraint to not say a single thing about anything fall related. Just as he’s enjoying this thought and the view of their desks untouched by plastic skeletons, Travis arrives, sitting down with a grin on his face that tells Wes that today is the day that Halloween has invaded and will continue to live within Travis until probably November third.

Without even a greeting, Travis pulls out a plastic magnifying glass and a pipe. “I’ve decided-!”

“Holmes and Watson,” Wes responds, without enthusiasm or looking up from the file he’s just opened. There’s nothing wrong with the costume choice – in fact, this time Wes is feeling just a minor tinge of excitement, having loved Doyle’s stories as a teenager – but he can’t help but torture Travis a little. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Travis pout slightly, putting the objects he so proudly hoisted up for Wes to see back down on his desk, dejected.

“So I’m going to be Holmes and you’ll be Watson,” Travis declares, pulling up his computer to log in.

This gets Wes to finally look over at the other man, eyebrows raised. “Why do you get to be Holmes?”

“Because Holmes was clearly a man of action, which stuffy Watson was _not_ -“

“Watson was _literally_ a decorated soldier just home from Afghanistan-“

“-and Holmes was obviously the superior detective who solved all the crimes. So, let’s face it, I should be Sherlock Holmes.”

Wes is definitely not smiling as he shakes his head and replies entirely with sarcasm and no fondness whatsoever, “Wow, even Holmes would envy that stunning display of logical deduction.”

Travis pretends he doesn’t notice the sarcasm and beams. Wes is the better storyteller, anyways.

*

“Holmes never wore a deerstalker, you know,” Wes criticizes as Travis fixes the hat one last time in the reflection of Wes’s car window.

“I remember from the five times you tried to tell me that in the store. And I will say now what I said then: Sherlock Holmes wears a deerstalker and I don’t care what you have to say about it.”

Brushing shoulders with Wes, Travis pushes open the precinct doors with a flourish; Wes rolls his eyes at the dramatization, trying to look as disinterested as possible as everybody looks up to see them.

It’s hard, though, as the recognition clicks on everybody’s faces as they take in Travis’s deerstalker and pipe, and Wes’s bowler hat and press on mustache (which was a whole fight and a half, that Travis inevitably won). “Is the game afoot, boys?” Jonelle asks, her voice affected by a fake British accent.

“Always!” Travis replies loudly, taking Wes by the wrist and dragging him around the room, a parade of their outfits hidden underneath a pretense of searching for clues.

“Do you really think the vital clue to catch the killer is hidden in the brownies?”

With a mouth full of baked goods, Travis shrugs, “Gotta look at all the options. Better safe than sorry.”

Wes takes a brownie too, just in case.

**2**

When Travis raves about the second Captain America film for three weeks straight, Wes knows that it goes without saying what this year’s costume will be. It doesn’t really even matter that he knows nothing about comic books or have much of an interest in them – Halloween is a Travis holiday, and the fact that he cares is what counts.

“So, I know I haven’t really talked about it yet, but I was thinking…”

“Captain America and The Falcon, I know. Did you really think I missed those massive hints?”

Travis’s look of utmost surprise and delight when Wes picks up the plastic patriotic shield makes his heart skip a beat in a way he refuses to fully acknowledge.

*

The only thing Wes doesn’t quite anticipate is how popular superhero movies are. Of course, he always knew from the constant barrage of trailers during television shows and

news segments on the weekly box office, but it’s not until everyone’s insisting on _pictures_ that he truly understands the frenzy.

Kendall is holding up her phone with an innocent smile, waving her hand slightly over so that they step closer together, their sides practically touching. “I just _loved_ The Winter Soldier. Sam and Steve are just perfect together!” That phrase seems to be the theme of the night, and despite the light hearted tone, Wes can feel the implication behind it.

“Is there something about these two that I should know about?” Wes whispers as Kendall merges back into the crowd.

“What are you talking about?” There’s nothing but confusion on Travis’s face. Wes chalks it up to overthinking and shrugs it off in favor of enjoying the rest of his night.

*

The next morning, Wes wakes up to far too many notifications on a Facebook profile he barely uses. Confusion subsides the moment he sees all of the photos taken of his and Travis’s costumes flooding his news feed. He’s not really sure what he expected from letting so many people document his one night of silly fun per year, but it’s certainly not a notification from one Alex MacFarland, commenting: _You and Travis seem really happy, Wes. I’m glad for you._

Wes untags himself from all of the photos and tries not to think too deeply about it.

**1**

Considering Travis’s propensity for sudden interests, Wes thinks nothing of the uptake in 1940s mobster movies in conversation. This is how he finds himself on the receiving end of the other man’s batting eyelashes and deliberately charming grin as he tries to convince Wes of yet another costume scheme. “Bonnie and Clyde were the 1930s, you know.”

“Same difference. They were outlaws, Wes! How much fun would that irony be?” When Wes’s frown increases, he continues, “Anyways, I call Clyde. I’ve already got part of my outfit.”

“You do rope me into stupid decisions all the time. Present example included.” But there’s a slight smile on his face as he teases Travis, who immediately looks indignant.

“They were a team, man. Equal parts crazy and responsible. Which I think is pretty fitting.”

There is nothing for Wes to say in response – even he has to admit that it’s fairly accurate.

*

“…why can’t I just be a male Bonnie?”

Travis has his feet propped up on his coffee table, flipping through a magazine as Wes changes in his room. “Because then nobody would know who we are, baby! It all fits, right?”

Begrudgingly, Wes cracks the door a bit, clutching at the edge of the dress as if he wants to rip it off of his body. “This is _stupid_.”

Dropping the magazine, Travis perks up, shaking his head. “No, no! It’s perfect. Besides…I kinda already told everybody this is what we’re going as, so you have to do it.”

Wes’s glare could melt iron, but Travis is used to it and pays it no mind. “And whatever happened to wanting to surprise everyone?”

“I couldn’t risk you backing out of this, it’s our greatest one yet!”

_Maybe a murder spree isn’t such a bad idea after all,_ Wes thinks bitterly as he slams the bedroom door in response.

*

After strategic pinning of his beanie hat and some struggles with simple eyeliner (“I should’ve called Brittany again – this stuff is hard!”), Wes feels no less ashamed but at least partially ready to face the ridicule of the office.

“Everyone is super into this, so don’t even worry,” Travis repeats for the millionth time, which doesn’t really help to ease the anxious constriction of his chest as they walk into the precinct, all decked out in Halloween cheer.

It doesn’t surprise him to see everyone with their phones in their hand, but what he doesn’t expect is for Travis to suddenly pull him in by the waist, and pick him up with a single arm, like the infamous photo.

Leaning in to balance himself by grabbing Travis’s shoulders, their cheeks are pressed against each other’s, and Wes can feel his skin warming up, and the anxiety slowly start to melt from his torso. “See, this is also why I had to be Clyde. Your weak arms wouldn’t have been able to support my mighty girth.”

“One: I’m not weak. And two: never say the phrase ‘mighty girth’ again.”

Travis sets Wes back on the ground, and he finds it surprisingly hard to let his arms fall back to his sides; they’re still standing close to each other, and Travis’s hand lingers on the small of Wes’s back. “We should, you know…”

“Yeah.” Travis’s voice is softer than normal for a moment though, as they start to press their way into the crowd.

*

Triumphant from their fifth win in a row, Travis hoists the plastic trophy in the air as they’re making their way through the now empty garage after Wes’s insistence they help to clean up the office. “We’re on a roll, baby! We can’t be defeated!”

“Aren’t you running out of space for those things by now?”

“I can make room. You can’t tell me you’re not even a _little bit_ excited by all this, otherwise you wouldn’t agree to it each year.”

“Excited by a dollar store trophy? I think not.”

Wes is about to pull open his door when Travis grabs him by the arm and stops him, stepping up so close that all Wes can think of is the scent of his cologne. _His courting cologne –_

“You have fun with this, don’t you? That’s the whole point, you know that, right?”

“Yes,” Wes replies, before pulling Travis in for a kiss, the lipstick he so meticulously applied in the mirror smearing across both of their faces as their built up tension increases their ferocity and passion.

As they pause for breath, Travis smirks and deepens his voice slightly as he says, “Aren’t you glad I insisted you wear the dress now?”

Wes doesn’t even hide the fact that he’s blushing as he ducks back down into his car.

**+1**

At work, Wes and Travis don’t say anything about their relationship. The therapy group and Alex knows, but for the most part it’s easier to skirt under the radar, without the pressure to be anything but themselves, together. There are good times and there are bad times and Wes can’t get enough of it all.

“We really should come out soon.” Wes knows this is true, but it’s hard to give up the safety of their private little bubble – the silence was only there as a buffer, in case they didn’t last or if it ended up as just a one time fling, yet as the days pass and Travis is still there and Wes has been house hunting for weeks, he has to admit that this needs to be acknowledged.

“It should be at the next Halloween party, with a really good couple’s costume,” Wes says, as if he hasn’t already been thinking about this for weeks. Months, even.

“I think I know what we should do,” Travis responds without hesitation.

“I had a feeling you would.”

*

Now, there’s no hesitation as costumes are pulled on and cosmetics are applied; it seemed only fitting to go as Cleopatra and Marc Antony from the old 1963 movie. “You do realize Cap’s going to make us fill out so much paperwork after this.”

“Maybe he’ll be so proud we took his Liz Taylor-Richard Burton metaphor to heart that he’ll forget to give it to us.”

Wes doesn’t need to say how much of a longshot that seems, his thoughts merely linger in the silence as he continues to perfect his winged eyeliner and fixes his wig. Travis fidgets with his sandals, retying the knee high wraparounds.

“Win number six, here we come!”

There’s a flutter in their stomachs as they make their way to the party, with Travis once again taking the lead, as if making the way for his Cleopatra. Taking Wes’s hand, he bows his head and kisses the back of it, waiting for the gasps of shock.

“We were wondering when you’d finally do the Taylor-Burton combination,” Amy calls out. “I mean, considering how the whole precinct knew about that from the start.”

“I still can’t believe Cap told _everybody,_ ” Wes sighs, linking his arm through with Travis’s, bare skin touching from their sleeveless outfits. “Of course we didn’t do these costumes before, we weren’t even dating back then.”

This seems an innocuous statement to Wes considering its factual content, but it makes everyone in the surrounding area fall suspiciously silent. “What do you mean, you two weren’t dating?”

Wes pauses in the middle of pouring out a small cup of fruit punch. “We’ve only been dating within the past year,” Travis supplies, the quick remembrance of their past break ups and make ups implicit in the glance they give each other.

“…we already handed out our betting pool when you guys came in those M&M costumes. That _wasn’t_ you two coming out? We all just assumed…”

Amy trails off at the look of surprise on both men’s faces. “That was six _years_ ago!”

“No wonder nobody’s said anything. And we just thought we were being discreet,” Travis manages to get out before his laughter bubbles over. “I guess we don’t have to worry about that paperwork if Cap’s known for six years.”

“That’s not even accurate,” Wes argues, but still follows Travis out into the little cleared area of the room for dancing, not even thinking about the potential trophy – just the way Travis’s arms snake around his waist, and their hips move together in time to the Halloween playlist that Kendall’s created. “It’s always been about this, hasn’t it?”

“Always,” Travis confesses, leaning in for a kiss.


End file.
